


We are the stories we live, the tales we tell ourselves

by Senor_Sparklefingers



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, He's mostly successful, Percy is trying to be a good father, Post-Episode: Dalen's Closet, References to Depression, alternate universe- minor canon divergence, cr1 spoilers, it's not in detail but it's there, parenting, post cr1, post-episodes: the search for grog/bob, referenced previous character death, slight AU, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 02:49:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20613713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senor_Sparklefingers/pseuds/Senor_Sparklefingers
Summary: What is a man but the sum of his memories?Or, the evolution of a bedtime story, as told by Percival de Rolo to his children over the years.





	We are the stories we live, the tales we tell ourselves

Percival was never meant to be a father.   
  


That is not to say that he did not wish to be a father; simply that he never expected to live long enough to get to that point in his life. He had made peace with that fact long ago, accepted it, even. He didn’t deserve to be a father, after all. Didn’t deserve the chance at a better life, not with his mistakes and his crimes still haunting him at every turn. Not when he could still see the blood on his hands, hear the whispers for vengeance in his ears long after his connection to Orthax had been severed. If the world had been a just place, he would have died, taking his creations with him to the grave, and that would be that.  


Of course, the world was _ not _ a just and good place, and his death wouldn’t be enough to stop his weapons from spreading, and causing pain and destruction in their wake. He lived on, watching the consequences of his actions from a distance, wondering if it would have been better if he’d never survived the Briarwoods at all.  
  


He wasn’t meant to become a father...and yet, here he was.

\---

The twins were perfect. Absolutely _ perfect _ . The best thing he’d ever been involved in creating, by a _ very _large margin.  


When Vex had told him she was expecting, he’d been torn. He’d been overjoyed, yes, and the love he felt for his wife and their unborn child threatened to overwhelm everything else...but, there had been fear.  


What if he did this wrong? What if his mistakes came back to haunt them? What if his children paid the price for his sins? What if he did something terrible, did something that would harm them? It didn’t matter that he spent his time working on clocks and toys and small gadgets, he knew what he was capable of.  


What if they hated him? What if they were _ afraid _of him?

(_They should be _ , the dark voice in his head whispered. _ You’re a monster, you’ll only ruin them, they should fear you _.)  


When Madeline and Percival (he’d objected to the name, but Vex had insisted, had said she wanted her son named after one of the best men she’d ever known, and he’d learned long ago not to argue with her) were born, the fears and doubts went away, if only for a brief time. Holding them in his arms...he never thought he would know such a feeling of perfect, wonderful _ rightness _.   


Later, Percy would think, the story of the Terrible Tinkerer was born the same day as his eldest children.  


But at that moment, holding his children, his heart so full of love he thought it would burst, all he could think about was how he would protect them and keep them safe from the monsters of the world.  


Even if those monsters included himself.

\---

Percy took to fatherhood like a duck to water, loving Maddie and Perce with such ferocity that it scared him. In fact, his love for his children terrified him,because he knew this wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. It was too good to be true.  


The fear was there when Maddie said her first word. Dada, she’d called out, reaching for him with a wide smile. He’d leaned down and swept her into his arms, the two of them laughing as she babbled ‘dada’ over and over again, and for all the joy he felt in that moment, the fear and guilt still lurked in his mind, threatening to drown out his happiness.  


The fear was there when Perce took his first toddling steps over to his parents, his face comically serious as he put one foot in front of the other. It threatened to overwhelm the pride Percy felt as his son took unsteady steps into his mother’s arms, the joy he felt at his boy’s laughter, at the bright grin on Vex’s face.  


This couldn’t last. Maddie and Perce...they loved him, but more than that, they _ trusted _ him. They had no idea of the things he’d done, the kind of horrible monster he really was.   


(‘Darling, you’re not a monster. You made mistakes...we’ve all done that,’ Vex told him, holding him in her arms, stroking his hair softly after a particularly dark day, when the guilt and doubt were too much and all he wanted to do was lock himself in his workshop and try futilely to find a way to fix his mistakes. He wished he could believe her, he truly did.)  
  


They trusted him to take care of them, to keep them safe, to protect them from monsters like him. And every day that went by without them knowing the truth of what he’d done was a day that they were at risk.   


When Vex told him that she was expecting again, his world shifted slightly. Another child, another precious gift he didn’t deserve, another person who would look up at him with wide, trusting eyes, and smile at him, breaking his heart with how much he loved them and how terrified he was of losing them.  


And so, he decided to tell Maddie and Perce. They were four, still too young to know what he’d done, but they were to be big siblings. It was the job of the older siblings to look out for the younger, after all.  


(He’d failed there, too.)  
  


But Percy...Percy was selfish. He knew he needed to tell his children, needed to arm them with the knowledge they needed to protect their little sibling when they arrived, but he feared losing their love too much to tell them the truth straight. They were four, far too young to lose that look of adoration for their father, and he wasn’t ready to let that go just yet, no matter how necessary it may be.  


He would have to tell them in a way they could understand, a simple, clear cut tale of good and evil. It would have to be just scary enough to stay with them, to teach them a lesson that would make an impact, without traumatizing them beyond reason. The villain would be defeated in the end and stay defeated. No resurrections. No second chances. No undeserved happy endings. Just one monster slain by another, the threat of his return hanging in the air like a ghost.  


The Terrible Tinkerer may have been born with Maddie and Perce, but it would develop and grow alongside his third child. It would take shape as Vex’s pregnancy progressed, and as she grew bigger, as the child grew stronger, he knew he could not delay telling this story to his children for much longer.   


And, eventually, the moment would come for him to finally tell his children about who their father really was.

\---

In the years following the defeat of the Briarwoods and the sealing of Vecna, the Night of Ascension took on new meaning in Whitestone. While the Raven Queen’s most holy day was still one of reflection and remembrance, a time to honor both Her and the departed souls She watched over, it was no longer a dark and solemn day, at least not entirely. Whitestone had seen far too many dark days under the Briarwoods, and any excuse to celebrate life was one the people would gladly take.  
  


The Night of Ascension was a day of celebration, a moment to mark the triumph of life and the natural order over darkness and undeath. A night when the sky would darken with the ravens of the city, when children would wear feathered masks and visit homes in search of treats, when the graveyard would be full of people paying their respects. A day to honor the Raven Queen, to remember those who were gone...and, in Whitestone in particular - a city that did not forget its heroes - there was another figure honored alongside the Matron of Ravens. A figure that had saved the world, had helped to save _ them_.   


It wasn’t uncommon to see vendors selling figures of both the Raven Queen and her Champion, toy wings marketed alongside white masks, children dressed up in dark costumes and playing with toy daggers. Whitestone remembered its heroes and honored them, especially when one of them still meant so much to its Lady.  
  


(“He’d be so _ smug _ about this,” Vex said to him once, shaking her head with a fond smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.. “He’d spin this so it was all about him, and then he’d never shut up about how there was a whole holiday in his honor…” She’d laughed and blinked a few times and he’d just held her, wishing not for the first time that there had been something more he could have done to save Vax. That he had been less broken, less of a failure.)  


Vex would take charge of the planning and organizing for Whitestone’s festivities for the Night of Ascension, leaving her busy for most of the day, with enough time in the evening to spend with Percy and the children before going to visit her brother’s bench. This year proved to be no exception, which came as no surprise to anyone. As if Vex would let a small thing like being heavily pregnant get in the way of her plans.  


And so it was on the Night of Ascension, when Vex was busy honoring her brother and his goddess, when she was away from home and unable to keep his darker thoughts at bay, that Percy decided to tell his children the Tale of the Terrible Tinkerer of Tal’Dorei.  


(He rather liked the alliteration, if nothing else.)  


He’d had charge over Maddie and Perce for most of the day, taking them out into the city to see all the decorations, revealing his new clockwork toys to them, heart aching as their faces lit up at the gift. He’d held their hands and laughed with them, carried them on his shoulders in turns, and, after a day of joy and adventure (as all days in childhood should be), they were finally settling down into bed.  


“Papa, story time!!” Maddie chirped up from her bed as he worked on getting her brother tucked in. “You promised you’d tell us one tonight!”  


He nodded and smiled fondly at his daughter (gods, she looked so much like Cassandra, like Whitney and Vesper and his mother at times), before finally getting his excited son under the covers. “I did, didn’t I. Now, what sort of story shall we have tonight?”  


Both the twins looked at each other, Perce frowning a little in thought as he and Maddie seemed to have a silent conversation between them. After a moment, he nodded and his sister smiled, both of them turning to him and saying, practically in unison, “A scary one!”  
  


“Cuz it’s Uncle Vax’s day,” Perce added with another nod, “and you’re sposta do scary stuff today.”  


“Oh, I am, am I?” he responded, laughing softly as Maddie pushed her covers back, sitting up eagerly. “Well...I warn you both, this is a _ very _ scary story. Are you sure you’re both ready for it?”  


Part of him hoped they would say no. He wasn’t ready to lose this just yet. But they needed to know, one way or another, and as both of them cheered and argued that they were ready, they were big now that they were going to have a little sibling, they weren’t afraid of anything.  
  


There would be no turning back from this.  


“Alright, then. I shall tell you the tale of the Terrible Tinkerer of Tal’Dorei…”

\---

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far in the north, there was a prince.  
  


He was not a particularly interesting individual, the middle child in a large family of remarkable people. He was not well loved by the people, he was not artistically talented or musically gifted, or particularly charismatic...but he was smart, and he was clever, and he loved to tinker.  


He loved nothing more than to spend his days in his workshop, creating new inventions and sketching out new projects, studying and learning and working. His work was his whole world, and many a day would pass when he would not leave his room or the library or his workshop, so consumed he was by the desire to create. He forgot, in his quest for knowledge, how to be a good son, a good brother, a good prince. As the years went by, he grew distant from his family, whom he loved, but whom he always thought would be there, so why should he focus so much on them?  


One day, a visitor from a far off land came to call on the royal family. They were everything the prince was, and more. They were clever and witty, and people seemed to be attracted to them almost instantly. It was no surprise that they were invited to stay with the royal family, to dine with them and live in their home.  


That night, though...the stranger shed their mask of civility and revealed themselves to be a monster, a terrible creature of blood and poison and death. They swept through the castle, slaughtering the royal family and their household, leaving nothing but death and destruction in their wake, cursing the kingdom with sorrow, before fleeing into the night. None were spared…none, save the middle prince, who, in his workshop, alone and isolated, was saved from the horror that befell his family.  


Lost in a mindless wave of rage and grief, consumed by guilt as the only survivor, the prince vowed to hunt this monster down and take his revenge, no matter the cost. To gain the power he would need, the prince sold his soul to a demon of vengeance. The demon gave him the power he needed to avenge his family, and in return he only had to do what he did before: Create. Tinker.  


Using his talents to create terrible weapons the likes of which the world had never seen before, the prince set off on his quest for vengeance, tracking the monster and all who associated it with a mindless determination. He continued to create his weapons, each new creation more powerful and deadly than the last. Each one was harder and harder for him to control and to prevent from spreading out into the hands of others, and with each one, the demon and its influence grew stronger.  
  


The prince traveled the land, leaving sorrow and pain in his wake, and he came to be known by a different name: the Terrible Tinkerer. The demon’s power over him grew, fueled by his rage and hatred.   


After many years of hunting, the Tinkerer finally tracked down the monster who’d killed his family, hiding on an island made of glass. A terrible, bloody battle ensued between the two, leaving the island in ruins as the weapons of the Tinkerer shattered the very earth they stood on. And, after what seemed to be an eternity, the Tinkerer, gravely injured in the fight, finally slew the monster. And as he stood over the monster, surrounded by blood and smoke, the Tinkerer looked at the face of the creature he’d killed and could only see himself. So consumed by his pain, so desperate to avenge his family, that all that had once been good in him was long lost, leaving only a monster behind.   
  


He had become the very thing he had sought so hard to destroy.  


And so, what remained of the prince, the Terrible Tinkerer, a monster of destruction, died, falling by the foe he’d lost everything to defeat.  


There is a lesson to this tale, as there are to many stories: Do not let revenge consume you, for there will be nothing of your true self left if you do. Always be careful with what you create, for once it has been made, it no longer belongs to just you. And, most importantly, treasure and protect your family, for you never know what could happen, and how much you will lose if you don’t.

\---

Twin eyes stared up wide at Percy with unreadable expressions. For a moment, there was silence, the story seeming to echo in the room. It was Maddie who responded first, frowning a little bit. “Papa...that wasn’t scary, that was _ sad! _”  


Perce blinked a few times and nodded in agreement with his sister. “Yeah, Papa, that’s sad…poor prince…”  


Ah. Well, that had _ not _ been the reaction he’d expected, and it left Percy at a bit of a loss. Perhaps he had miscalculated, and his children were still too young to understand the true horror behind his tale. Or maybe they were far, far too perceptive for their own good. He would have to improvise something from here, if he wanted this story and its lessons to stick. He wasn’t quite as good as Vex was when it came to thinking on his feet, but he could come up with something to make this scary enough to satisfy his children.  


“Well,” Percy said, adjusting his glasses and pulling his children closer to him, “the prince may have died, but the _ demon _...it would take much, much more to kill a demon.” In his arms, his children stilled. “Having spent so many years with the prince, feeding on his hatred and sorrow, he was loath to return to his realm, and so, he stole away with the prince’s body, his anchor in this world. Some say the demon still exists, inhabiting what was once the prince, fueled by his lingering guilt and anger, and he stalks the land as the Terrible Tinkerer...and if you aren’t careful, if you don’t watch the shadows too closely,” and here he paused for dramatic effect, glancing down at the wide-eyed stares of his children, leaning down just a little, “....he gets you!”  


Perce gasped and Maddie’s shaking grip on her father tightened, and he held them both a little closer, the fear of the story finally taking hold. They wouldn’t understand its true meaning yet, but in time...in time they would. If all he had done was made them a little more cautious, a little more careful, then that would be enough for now.  


“Was that scary enough for you?”  
  


Perce responded first, nodding fiercely and, still shaking a bit, grinned at Percy. “_Super _ scary, Papa.”  
  
  
“And do you think you can both remember the lessons of this story?”  


“Uh huh,” Maddie said, biting her lip nervously. “Papa...can you check under the bed b’fore you go? For monsters? Just in case?”  
  
“Of course, darling. Of course.”  
  


Percy dutifully checked under his children’s beds, reassuring them that there were no monsters (none under their bed, he would be gone soon), that they were perfectly safe and that their mother would protect them from creatures like the Terrible Tinkerer. He was grateful that they were tired enough to not ask if he would protect them from the Tinkerer as well.   


Once his children were reassured and properly repositioned in their bed, he kissed them both on the head and told them he loved them both very much, wished them pleasant dreams, and left them to what he hoped would be a sweet and undisturbed slumber, though he left their door open a crack. Just in case.  
  


For a moment, he stood outside their door, listening to their breathing even out and slow as they fell asleep, and once he began to hear Perce’s soft snores, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before walking down the hall and away towards his workshop. Tonight, it seemed, would be a long one, and it was better to try and be productive than to let his thoughts wander while he waited for Vex’s return.  


“Come on, Percy,” he muttered to himself quietly. “Time to go live up to your title.”

\---

He wasn’t sure what time it was when Vex arrived home, or indeed how long she’d been home before seeking him out. It must have been some time, though, as she waited in the entrance of his workshop wearing a dressing gown and a look of concern.  


“Percy,” she said, her soft voice cutting through the silence, “darling...it’s late. How long have you been down here?”  


He blinked, suddenly aware of how _ dark _ the room had gotten around him, of how far down his candle had burned. He was surrounded by crumpled balls of paper, half baked ideas he’d discarded as quickly as they’d come to him, several of which he couldn’t recall having done. How long _ had _ he been down here, working on nothing?  


The silence was all the answer that Vex needed. She sighed, shaking her head as she walked towards him, wrapping her arms around him. Without thinking, he leaned into her touch.  
  


“Alright, Percy, up,” Vex said after a minute, gently tugging him up out of his chair. He did as she asked, let her lead him away from the workshop and up to their room. He let her sit him down on their shared bed, let her stroke his cheek and pull him out of his head. “Now...are you alright? What happened? Is it about today? Because...I know he was your brother too. He was important to...well...to everyone.”  
  


It wouldn’t have been the first time his grief and frustration over Vax’s loss had driven him into the workshop, that much was true. Percy considered, for a moment, telling her the truth. He quickly decided against that, however, when he imagined the look on her face: a strange mixture of disappointment and sympathy that he didn’t think he could bear to see in reality. Lying, however, was out of the question, she’d see through him immediately, knew him too well, and that would just make things worse in the long run.   


A half-truth, he decided, would be the best option for now, at least until he figured out how to explain to Vex why he thought explaining his history to his children was necessary.   


“It was just...a long day,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. That much was true, it _ had _ been a long day. The Night of Ascension wasn’t an easy day for either him or Vex, though, as time passed, he knew it would be less painful the further away from Vax’s death they were. “The children asked for a scary story before bed, and I fear I may have gone a bit over the top with spinning them a tale.” While he knew that scaring them with his story was necessary for the lesson to take hold, he truly didn’t wish to do anything to cause them any sort of pain or unhappiness. That made all of it even more difficult.   


Vex’s eyes were still concerned, still probing for the whole story that she knew Percy was keeping from her, but her lips quirked up in a small smile. “Oh, Percy. I know they’re young, but our children are braver than you give them credit for being. They’re _ our _ children, after all.”  


“I only hope that I haven’t done any lasting damage. I--”  
  


“Percival, don’t you dare finish that sentence. You are a _ wonderful _ father.” Her voice was firm and left no room for argument, her eyes somehow both hard and soft and loving. “You adore them, and they you, and I know you would never do anything to upset them. I know that you think yourself unworthy of all of this--” she gestured to herself and the room “but you _ are _. You’re a good man, Percy. A good father and a good husband...and you deserve to be happy. You--” Vex suddenly stopped mid sentence, eyes widening slightly. Before Percy could ask her what was wrong, she grabbed his hand and put it on her stomach.   


Oh. _ Oh_.  


“It would seem,” Vex said softly, “That the baby agrees with me.”  


Well, he thought, blinking back tears with a smile, even if he didn’t believe it, who was he to argue when he was so clearly outnumbered?

\---

As Vex said, Maddie and Perce were made of strong stuff, and they didn’t seem to be too phased by the scare he’d given them. In fact, one of the lessons he’d tried to teach them through the tale seemed to have stuck, as the twins had been hovering around their mother all day, asking about the baby and what it was like to be a big sibling.   


It also had not escaped his notice that they were asking all these questions of their mother, and not him. Good. It was better that they start to draw away now, before he did something to truly ruin then.  


He didn’t hear either of them mention the Terrible Tinkerer once, at least not where he could hear them, but he knew they’d not forgotten the story he told them. And, he assumed, it would be the same story he would tell his next child, and any that may come after them. The same cautionary tale that painted him as a monster, an early warning to his children to stick close to each other and pull away from him.  


Well. There was an expression about those who assume things…

\---  


Elaina de Rolo looked so much like her mother that it was almost startling to Percy. When she’d been born, just like with the twins, all he could think was that she was perfect; it seemed impossible that he’d now had a small hand in creating three beautiful, wonderful children…  
  


And then she’d opened her de Rolo blue eyes, and giggled at him, and he was lost once more to the overwhelming love he felt for his children. And the fear that he’d ruin them with his past misdeeds reared its ugly head once more, hanging over him like a shroud, tainting every moment of happiness.  


He could tell Elaina the Terrible Tinkerer story. For whatever reason, Maddie and Perce had decided that they _ liked _ the story, and the fact that Vex hadn’t caught them playing at Tinkerer and Monster yet was nothing short of a small miracle. They’d appeared to have taken some of what he was trying to tell them to heart, or at least he believed they had, but they’d been too young to truly understand what he had tried to confess. Elaina was younger still, less likely to understand any of it beyond a scary monster and a demon prince. Perhaps telling two four-year olds a horror story about their father had been an unwise move after all. Best not to repeat that mistake until he’d found and fixed the problem with his tale.  
  


So, in spite of his lingering fears and doubts, he decided to wait to tell her until she was older. Perhaps, if she understood it, her elder siblings would finally understand why it would be smarter for them to keep away from him.  
  


But the best laid plans often go awry, as it were.  


Maddie and Perce were seven, nearly eight when he was finally forced to tell his younger daughter the story of the Terrible Tinkerer. Elaina was four, and their fourth child, Freddie, was fast approaching his first birthday.  


(_Vax’ildan, _she’d said when she gave birth to her brother in miniature. There could be no other name for him but that, but he was never Vax, always Freddie. To call him anything else...Percy saw the pain Vex tried to hide when she looked at her youngest son, when she saw her brother and all the possibilities he’d once had, cut short and led away in a flurry of snowdrops and feathers. To call him by his uncle’s name would be cruel, to both mother and son. Freddie suited him).  


He’d been in the library, working on some new sketches for pocket watches he wanted to try making (smaller ones, ones that could be worn without need of a chain, perhaps on the wrist?), when he’d heard the giggles from the garden. In spite of himself, Percy smiled at the sound of his children playing. For all that he’d wanted to push them away with his tale, and for all that he knew them pushing away from him was in their best interest, he still loved everything about them all, wanted to know every little misadventure they got into.  
  


When he’d stepped away from his work to watch them through the window, he’d expected to see Maddie and Perce playing some game or another, their little sister watching them and cheering them on from whatever part of the garden she’d decided to make a mud-castle in that day.

Instead, he saw Elaina, sitting behind her siblings, crying while they giggled and laughed.

There were many things he’d forgotten about his childhood. Things he’d willfully locked away so that the ache of his lost family wouldn’t sting as much, so that he could remember the best version of them all instead of the perfectly imperfect human beings they’d truly been, but even so, he remembered being the third child. Remembered being the odd one out when his thick-as-thieves elder siblings played their games, how much he’d _ hated _it...how he’d withdrawn into his world of books and tools, starting on a path that there had been no going back from.

He didn’t want that for his Lanie.

With a sigh, Percy pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think of how best to handle it, before walking out of the library and heading towards the gardens. There were good ways to handle this, such as asking what game they were playing and why couldn’t they find a place for Elaina in it? But there were also bad ways. Forcing them to include their sister would only cause resentment to form...gods, sometimes he wished he were Vex. She was so _ good _at dealing with these sorts of minor squabbles, while he just waffled, wanting all of his children to be happy.  


Still, he thought to himself as he stepped outside, there were worse problems to have than trying to make sure that all of your children feel happy and loved.  


“What,” he said, all stern father, voice heavy with concern as he tried to act how Vex would in such a situation, “is going on out here?”  


The twin’s laughter immediately stopped, both of them staring at the ground, the sky, anywhere but at their father. Elaina sniffled, wiping her eyes as she stood up, a bit wobbly, running over to Percy and hugging him tight around his knees. Without thinking, he reached down and stroked her hair. “It’s alright, Lanie...what happened? You two weren’t being unkind to your sister, were you?”  


Neither of the twins responded immediately and that was really all the answer he needed. Sighing, Percy gently pulled Elaina away from his knees, wrapping an arm around her protectively. It was never easy, being the middle child. “What happened?”  


Perce was the one who eventually spoke up, his quiet and soft-spoken son who was too much like his namesake at times for his own good. “We were playing together, an’ Lanie was looking at the flowers...an’ she got bored and came over to try and join us, but we were playing a two player game, and--”  


“They--they made me be the Tin’kerer…!!” Lanie burst out, dissolving into sobs once more.  


Maddie sighed, crossing her arms, looking at her little sister with barely concealed irritation. “Well, she _ wanted _to play with us! That’s a three player game!!”  


“You _ always _ make me be the Tin’kerer!”  
  


“Well, you’re the third child, you _ have _ to be the Tinkerer, that’s the rules!”  


Lanie sniffled and wiped at her eyes, shooting her sister a look that was far too vicious for a four-year old. “I don’t wanna keep being the monster!”  
  


Maddie rolled her eyes, and for an instant, Percy did not see his two daughters arguing. He saw himself, a little boy desperate to be included with his older brother and sister...and then he saw himself as a teenager, aloof and distant and pushing Cassandra away from him with just a sigh and a look and_ ‘I have more important things to do than play with you, Cassandra, go bother somebody else’. _

It was happening all over again, and it was his fault. His attempt to protect his children, to tell them the truth and slowly push them away from him, had gone horribly wrong (_and was he truly surprised?_ , that dark voice that sounded like Orthax whispered in his mind. He was broken and a monster and those he loved would always suffer for his mistakes).

There were so, _so_ many things in his life that he could not change. Mistakes he could not undo, regrets he would live with for the rest of his days. But this? There was still time. He could still fix this.

“Enough,” Percy said, putting a hand up to quiet his bickering children. “Maddie, Perce, you should know better than to torment your sister in your games. And it sounds like this isn’t the first time this has happened, either. I’m very disappointed in both of you.”  


The twins looked at each other, then back down to the ground, mumbling out weak apologies to both him and Lanie. He sighed, sitting down on the ground, pulling Lanie into his lap and gesturing for them to join him. “But perhaps the fault is mine. I was the one who told you that story...and truth be told, I didn't even tell you the proper version of it.” That seemed to grab all of their attention, the twins scooting over to sit next to him, one on each side, while Lanie blinked up at him, her curious eyes still red from crying.  
  


“What do you mean, Papa?” Perce asked.  
  


“Well, you both asked for a _ scary _ story, when I first told you the tale. Scary stories do not have heroic huntresses or happy endings in them, so I had to make some changes.”  


Both Maddie and Lanie looked excited at the mention of a heroic huntress, his eldest daughter gently nudging him in the side, encouraging him to continue. He couldn’t help but smile fondly at them all, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you the tale, but don’t think this means you’re not in trouble for teasing your sister…”

\---

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far in the north, there was a prince.  
  


He was not a particularly interesting individual, the middle child in a large family of remarkable people. He was not well loved by the people, he was not artistically talented or musically gifted, or particularly charismatic...but he was smart, and he was clever, and he loved to tinker.  
  


He loved nothing more than to spend his days in his workshop, creating new inventions and sketching out new projects, studying and learning and working. His work was his whole world, and many a day would pass when he would not leave his room or the library or his workshop, so consumed as he was by the desire to create. He forgot, in his quest for knowledge, how to be a good son, a good brother, a good prince. As the years went by, he grew distant from his family, whom he loved, but whom he always thought would be there, so why should he focus so much on them?  


(“Papa, we know this part already! When are you gonna get to the huntress?”  
  


“Patience, Maddie. We will get there.”)  
  


One day, a visitor from a far off land visited the royal family. They were everything the prince was, and more. They were clever and witty, and people seemed to be attracted to them almost instantly. It was no surprise that they were invited to stay with the royal family, to dine with them and stay in their home. That night, though,the stranger shed their mask of civility and revealed themselves to be a monster, a terrible creature of blood and poison and death. They swept through the castle, slaughtering the royal family and their household, leaving nothing but death and destruction in their wake, cursing the kingdom with sorrow, and fleeing into the night. None were spared…none, save for two. The middle prince, who, locked away in his workshop alone and isolated, was saved from the horror that befell his family, and the youngest daughter, the princess, who was clever and brave and managed to escape the bloodshed. But she is the hero of another story, so for now, we focus on the prince. The prince, you see, did not know his sister had survived, and so had thought himself alone in the world.   
  


(“Wait, there’s a princess too? What happened to her?”  
  


“She has her own story, as I said. It seemed unnecessary to include her the first time, but I promised you the proper story, so here she is.”  
  


“So...she’s _ not _the huntress?”  
  


“No. Though, I suspect, if she put her mind to it, she’d be a formidable huntress indeed.”)  
  


Lost in a mindless wave of rage and grief, consumed by guilt as the only survivor, the prince vowed to hunt this monster down and take his revenge, no matter the cost. To gain the power he would need, the prince sold his soul to a demon of vengeance. The demon gave him the tools to avenge his family, and in return he only had to do what he did before: Create. Tinker.  
  


Using his talents to create terrible weapons the likes of which the world had never before seen, the prince set off on his quest for vengeance, tracking the monster and all who associated it with a mindless determination. He continued to create his weapons, and each new creation was more powerful and more deadly than the last. Each one was harder and harder for him to control and to prevent from spreading out into the hands of others, and with each one, the demon and its influence grew stronger.  


The prince traveled the land, leaving sorrow and pain in his wake, and he came to be known by a different name: the Terrible Tinkerer. The demon’s power over him grew, fueled by his rage and hatred.   
  


There is a point, you see, where rage and hatred start to become all you know. When they are the only thing fueling you and if you are not pulled back from the edge, you will become the monster you feel you are, that your actions suggest you’ve already become. And, it was at that edge, with mere slips of his humanity left, that the Terrible Tinkerer met the Huntress.  
  


The Huntress spent most of her time in the woods, hunting and tracking, caring for the trees and animals and defending those who would threaten them. One of those threats was the very monster that had destroyed the life of the Tinkerer, and it was through tracking their movements that the Huntress and the Tinkerer met. The Tinkerer had been close to his goal, to killing the monster, but something had gone horribly wrong, and he had been forcibly reminded of his humanity when the agents of the monster (“The monster had agents?” “Yes, Perce, many monsters do not work alone, and that is what makes them so terrible.”) captured him and locked him away. This may have been better for the world, but it was certainly not better for the Tinkerer and his goals.  


The Huntress and the Tinkerer met when she freed him from his captivity. She did not know who he was, or what he had done, for her life in the woods had sheltered her from the knowledge of his terrible deeds. All she saw was an ally, somebody who could be a useful partner in the fight they both shared, and as he looked at her, he saw the same thing. And so they were agreed: they would work together to defeat this great foe.  
  


As they traveled together, something began to change in the Tinkerer. The monster he had been turning into began to fade away, slowly but surely. The Huntress was kind, smart, beautiful...she made him laugh again, made him smile again, made him _ human _ again.  
  


The demon that had laid claim to the soul of the prince and had given him the power to become the Tinkerer did not like this change of heart, did not like what his tool was becoming, what the Huntress was doing to him. But until he could find another willing host, there was nothing he could do but bide his time, plot, and wait.  
  


After many years of hunting, the Tinkerer and the Huntress finally tracked down the monster who’d killed his family and caused so much destruction, hiding on an island made of glass. The Tinkerer wanted to ambush the monster, to engage them directly in what surely would have been a bloody, ruinous battle, but the Huntress, ever the clever one, suggested subterfuge. And so the two of them scouted out the island, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike. While they did that, though, the demon brought his own plans to fruition, seeking out the monster. He informed the monster of the presence of the Tinkerer and the Huntress, and offered his power to them in the upcoming battle, an offer which was gladly accepted.   


The element of surprise lost, a terrible battle unfolded on the island, the weapons of the Tinkerer shattering the earth and painting the sky black with smoke. Though he had the aid of the Huntress, he had lost the demon, and his foe had gained a powerful ally. The fight seemed to go on forever, the Tinkerer taking blow after blow, and as it drew on, he realized that this would only end with both the monster’s death and his own. But he could not let the Huntress die, not after she had brought him back from a terrible fate. In a brief lull in the fighting, he turned to her, whispered his apologies, and pushed her into the sea so she would be spared from the final blows of the fight.  
  


When she finally swam to shore, the Huntress saw only destruction, the island shattered into countless shards...and the monster dead, the demon lost, the Tinkerer standing over his foe, surrounded by blood and smoke. He turned to her, his expression unreadable, and he gave her a small smile and nod, before collapsing and dying.  
  


He had not been a good man, in the end. He had become a monster, and only the kindness and affection of another had brought him back from becoming the very thing he had sought to destroy. The deeds he did would echo forever, leaving a legacy of darkness. But he had not died a monster. He had not even died as the Tinkerer. He died a prince, satisfied in the knowledge that his friend was still alive and that, perhaps, there would be peace for him after all.  


The lessons from this story remain the same, but there is another one in this version of the tale as well: Do not be afraid to ask for help or to rely on others. Sometimes, one person is enough to keep you afloat when all seems lost, to guide you back from whatever dark place you may find yourself in.  


\---  


“What happened to the huntress, though?” Lanie asked, chewing on her lip as she looked up at Percy from where she sat in his lap. Maddie and Perce both nodded in agreement, speaking at once, their questions overlapping into incomprehensible noise. Percy just smiled and shook his head, holding up a hand to gently quiet them all.   


“Well, she went off to have more adventures on her own, other stories that I can tell you all another day.”  


“But did she miss the Tink--the prince?” Perce said with a frown. “They were friends, right? Why didn’t she try to bring him back? It just can’t end like _ that _, that’s just as sad as the first story!”  


Percy’s smile faded slightly, and he wondered if he should come clean, or at the very least give them a version of the story closer to the truth. But they were young still, and as their games had shown, they didn’t fully understand what he was telling him. It would be too much to tell them that sometimes it was better to let things rest, that some battles didn’t end after the monster was slain, that some fights were a constant struggle between the darkness that still tugged at your soul  
  


Instead, he shrugged. “Perhaps she does. Who’s to say? It’s only a story, after all.”  


Perhaps eventually he’d believe that too.

\---

It was surprising, in a way, that it took Vex so long to find out what story he’d told their children. She seemed to know everything, after all, and he’d assumed she’d seen the twins playing Tinkerer and Monster at least once. She must have put it together and just...not said anything.  
  
  


(That was a foolish thought and he knew it.)  
  


Truthfully, Percy had never been quite sure how Vex would react to the story he had told his children on the Night of Ascension, all those years ago. He always imagined she would take it poorly, accurately calling him a terrible father for exposing their children to the terrible truths of his existence. Part of him had waited for it, welcoming that moment, if only because it would mean his children would have another person keeping them safe from him. It was unrealistically grim, but when had Percival de Rolo ever been an optimist?  


He was reading in their room when it came to a head. Technically, he was reading his work-notes from the previous day, part of his effort to pull himself away from his workshop and write his ideas down as they came to him. He knew the children were only young once, and they would pull away eventually, either because of him or simply because they grew up. He was tired of missing things and his work could wait. The shadows could wait.  


“You know, Percy dear, our daughter was just telling Freddie the most _ interesting _ story.”  
  


Percy looked up from his reading to see his wife, her expression unreadable, her arms crossed.  
  


“I was going to put them down to sleep, you see, maybe tell them a bedtime story, but it seems like Elaina was already telling a story when I came in. So, I decided to listen,” she continued, walking towards their bed. “I was curious, you see, as to what sort of story she’d cooked up. So, imagine my surprise when I hear our _ four year old _ telling a story about _ Glintshore. _”  


Ah. Well then, he had known this day was coming, he’d just hoped that when she finally discovered what he’d done, he’d know what to say.  


Vex’s eyes were hard, her face still blank and unreadable, her arms still crossed as she sat down on the edge of the bed, no longer facing him as she sighed, shaking her head. “Percival, what on Earth were you thinking? Why would you tell our children a story about that?”  


He remained silent, the space between them seeming to stretch for miles in the quiet.  
  


“I mean, it’s not as if any of our adventures are particularly safe for children,” she continued, either unaffected or ignoring the chasm that seemed to suddenly exist between them, “but why _ Glintshore? _ Why would you tell them about one of the worst days of my--of _ our _lives? What good could possibly come from telling them about that?”  
  


“...they need to know their history. To know the truth.”  


Vex blinked, turning to face Percy. He wasn’t looking at her, staring intently at his notebook. She frowned, scooting forward on the bed, bridging the gap between them, if only physically.  


“What are you _ talking _about?”  


He sighed, putting the notebook down and looking up to meet her. His eyes were...she’d seen him like this before. This look of resignation, of grim acceptance of his face.   


She’d seen it at Glintshore.  


Seeing it here, in their bedroom...it scared her, the fear overtaking any anger she had over the story he’d been telling their children.  


“They need to know the truth about what sort of person their father is, Vex’ahlia. Better they start to learn it early, internalize it. It’ll make it easier for them to pull away for their own safety later on.”  
  


Ah...so that what was this was about, she realized. After all this time...after all the good he’d done, all the joy he’d brought into the world, into her life and the lives of their children...he still saw himself as a villain, undeserving of the life he now led.  
  


Vex knew he still struggled with his inner demons. The days that he would spend cooped up in his workshop, isolated from them all, forgetting meals and sleep, they were testament to the hold his guilt and sorrow still had on him, even after all these years. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand. There were still days when she wanted to just go into the woods, let the hunter in her take over, and not think about all the things she had in her life that her brother never got to experience, not think about the guilt she felt growing old when he never did, the sorrow she could still see in Keyleth’s eyes whenever her friend would visit to see her nieces and nephews.  


But Percy...his guilt was different. It wasn’t just the survivor’s guilt, or the sorrow he still felt about the loss of his family. It wasn’t just the shame about his actions fighting the Briarwoods, or his deal with Orthax. It was the fact that no matter what he did, no matter how many things he created, he couldn’t escape his first and most impactful creation: the gun.  


It didn’t matter that it had been Ripley who mechanized their production, that it had been Ripley who sent out design schematics and sold them to buyers across the world and made them into what they were today. It didn’t matter that he had tried so hard to keep his creation contained, that he did so much work to try and mitigate the damage his weapons had done. As far as he was concerned, every death at the barrel of a gun was caused by him. Every drop of blood, every act of war, every new weapon based on his first design...it was his fault. She saw it in the way he looked whenever news of the conflict across the sea came to Whitestone. The stony, cold way he would examine the Whitestone Riflemen, even though they had seen no true battles since the sealing of Vecna. His creation had been used for monstrous acts...so of course he would see himself as a monster still.  


Monsters didn’t get happy endings. They didn’t get to marry the woman they loved, they didn’t get to have children who adored them. They didn’t get to sleep peacefully at night when people fought and died using what they had brought into the world.  


After all this time, he still didn’t believe he deserved the life he had.   


Her irritation forgotten, Vex closed the distance between the two of them, gently pulling his notebook from his hands and putting it to the side as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. “Percy...how many times do I need to tell you, you’re not a monster?”  
  


Percy laughed, a weak, broken sort of sound. “Evidence seems to hold to the contrary, my love. I just...want to protect them. You know what my legacy on this world will be, and they will be the ones who suffer for it. If I can warn them away, give them enough cause to rally around each other and push them away from me...perhaps the impact on them will be less.”  


“Oh, Percival...you’re their father, and a wonderful one at that. If you won’t believe me when I tell you you aren’t a monster, would you believe them? They love you...you protect them from the monsters in the world, the _ real _ monsters.”  


He was silent for a moment before sighing and pulling away, looking Vex in the eye. Gods, he looked so _ tired _…  
  


“Maybe so. But for how much longer can I do that? They’re growing up, Vex. They’re going to find out what I’ve done eventually, and I simply want to cushion that blow. Make it easier for them to cut me out of their lives.”  


And then, in a quiet, even voice, he told her a story. A bedtime story requested years ago by two children looking for a good scare on a dark night. A story of princes and monsters, murder and deals and demons...the story of Percival de Rolo, as he saw it, with all the positives and the hope and happy ending removed. The story he thought he deserved.  
  


Once he was done, they sat in silence for a moment. Vex quietly took her husband’s hand and squeezed it gently.  
  


“You know,” she said softly, “the story that Lanie was telling Freddie had a huntress in it. And if I know anything, that huntress would never let anything happen to her children. Or her husband, for that matter. She’d stand by them and protect them from anything...even themselves, if necessary.” Her free hand went to Percy’s cheek, gently tilting his head so their eyes met. “We both know what real monsters look like, darling. And the best way to protect our children from them is to be honest. Our children are their own people. They’re going to grow up and do amazing things, and if anyone tries to use you or your mistakes against them, they’ll be prepared and ready to defend the father they love. Because, tell me--if that prince hadn’t lost his family...would he have become involved with demons?”  


“...probably not,” he admitted. In a better world, he wouldn’t have had any reason to sell his soul twice over.  


“Would he have taken his creation and spread it around the world, knowing what it could do?”  


Again, he shook his head.   


“And,” Vex continued, giving Percy a small smile, “even if somebody had mass produced his guns and sold them to others, would he have done everything he could to contain the damage? Would he, in other words, be very much like the man I’m lucky to be married to?”  


He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Why must you always make such a convincing argument, my light?”  
  


“I have a natural talent at being right, darling. Surely you’ve realized that by now.” She leaned in and kissed him, quick and gentle, smiling slightly against his lips. “Now, this doesn’t mean I’m not cross at you for telling our four year old about your death, but at least I understand now, what you were trying to do, no matter how...misguided it was.”  


He laughed again, so different from that hollow sound he’d made only minutes ago. This...this sounded like her husband. “I suppose the next time I have any grand ideas about what stories to tell the children, I should run them by you first?”  


“Quite right. And...when they’re older, and you think they’re ready....”  


“...I’ll tell them the truth. I’ll tell them everything, and let them make up their own minds.”  


\---

Life, as it is wont to do, went on. Percy tried to keep Vex’s words in mind, tried to call her voice to his thoughts whenever the darkness creeped in at the edges, and things seemed to be calm for a while. He watched as his children grew older and grew up, heart bursting with pride at the people they were turning into. He still couldn’t believe he’d played even a small part in any of it.  
  


The twins grew, Maddie becoming as clever and fearless as her mother, while Perce took after his namesake a bit more than Percywould have liked. Luckily, Perce also idolized his Uncle Tary, and a few summers spent tinkering with him and Uncle Lawrence in Deastock had brought him out of his shell. Lanie was quiet and introspective, Freddie was wildly curious and seemed to have trouble grasping the concept of ‘danger’. Both of them reminded their parents of Vax, in a way that had become a bit less painful with the passage of time. But they were their own people, wonderful and chaotic and happy.  
  


He still told them stories, of course. There were no more tales about the Terrible Tinkerer, but there were ones about the Huntress and her adventures, and the lost princess and her struggles to survive and take back what was hers. There were tales about a woman who could turn into a cat, a man as large as a mountain with a heart of gold, a prince of crows who looked after the souls of the dead...there were stories about all of his friends, and while he was no master storyteller like Scanlan, Percy liked to think he did the tale of Vox Machina justice.  
  


Time passed. The voice in his head that sounded like Orthax, the one that dragged him through the dark and into the shadows, became less and less prominent. He tinkered and invented, clocks and toys and all sorts of things. The halls of Whitestone were never quiet, and for a long time, Percy was happy.  


These things, of course, do not last.  
  


Vex’s next pregnancy had come as a surprise to all of them. The twins were nearly grown now, Freddie was fast approaching ten, and they’d both thought the days of young childhood were behind them. It wasn’t an unwelcome surprise, by any means. Percy threw himself into preparing for their new arrival, fixing up the nursery and creating all sorts of things with a strange sort of excited energy. It was the first time he’d felt this way with no guilt, no fear, no shame.  


Of course. Of course, he had been so foolish to feel that way.  
  


Both he and Vex had always known that, with his past dealings, there was a chance one of their children would be born a tiefling. The fact that it hadn’t happened before was a bit of a surprise, and Vex chalked it up to her being in favor with Pelor ‘balancing the scales’. And it had been years...he’d hoped that perhaps they’d get lucky, that his children would, at least, not bear a _ visible _reminder of what he had done. They didn’t deserve to pay for his sins with a lifetime of fear and suspicion.  


Then their newest daughter was born with sunshine yellow skin, little nubs of horns, and the faintest stub of a tail, and all Percy’s hopes turned to ash. She was beautiful, absolutely perfect in every way, sunlight in tiefling form, and she was going to be looked at with distrust for her entire life, and it was _ his fault _.   


If it had just been Cassie, perhaps he would have handled it better. Percy would have been stronger if it had just been one child he’d damned with his sins. He could have swallowed it down and been strong for Vex until he could sneak off to the workshop, until he could pour his feelings into his work, until he could feel nothing anymore. But then Gregory had followed her only minutes later, kicking his way into the world with little dark hooves on little orange legs, his own horns and tail just a bit more prominent than his sister’s.  


And something in Percy had shut off. All he could see was black, all he could hear was the rushing of his own blood and the voice of Orthax cackling in his mind, every dark thought and damnable thing he’d ever done overwhelming him all at once.  


He looked at Vex, exhausted and smiling, holding their beautiful, perfect children in her arms, looking back at him, and whatever she said was lost to him as he mumbled some sort of excuse, unable to meet her gaze as he ran out of the room.  
  


_ \--Once upon a time there was a prince, a foolish prince who lost his family to monsters and became one to avenge them. There was a tinkerer, a terrible tinkerer who burned the world with his inventions, who spilled blood wherever he went, who damned innocent children with his mistakes. A terrible terrible tinkerer who should have died, who should have stayed dead, who should never have lived to deal with demons and invent guns, who should have--   
_

He wasn’t sure how long it had been, or how far he’d gone. But when Percy came back to himself, he was alone in the Parchwood, not quite sure how he’d gotten there. All he could think was that he couldn’t go back couldn’t face them. Cassie and Gregory were going to suffer enough because of him, all of them were going to suffer because of him, he was a monster, a terrible tinkerer who didn’t have the decency to stay dead, who had condemned his children, _ all _of them, who had done so much damage to the world, to his family, to his wife…  


He needed to leave. He needed to stop. He needed to _ think _ , but that damned story he’d told the twins ( _ the big twins, _ he thought dully, _ we have to call them the big twins now _ ) was repeating in his head in an endless loop, condemning, accusing, getting louder, sounding more like Orthax, more like Ripley, more like his parents and his siblings and Vax and _ Vex _ with each iteration.   
  


_ Your fault. This is your fault. Your children are going to suffer and it’s your fault and you can’t _fix this--  


“Dad!!”  


Maddie’s voice, loud and clear and so close, cut through his spiraling thoughts. He blinked, turning towards the trees at the sound of rustling getting closer, and was soon met with the tired, relieved face of his daughter. Breathing heavily, she smiled at him. “Dad...there you are…”  


“Maddie,” he responded. “I...how did you…”

“You weren’t exactly subtle, when you ran out.” She shrugged and gestured to the ground. “Kind of easy to track you down, actually...Mum is _ really _ mad at you, by the way.”  


And he deserved every bit of her anger. Gods, what must she have thought of him when, presented with two healthy and perfect tiefling children, he’d just said nothing and fled? What must that have looked like? He hadn’t even asked her if she was alright, if the babies were okay, he’d just ran like the coward he was.  


“Dad…?” Maddie was looking at him with concern;she looked so much like her mother...so much like _ his _ mother. Percy shook his head, giving her what he hoped was a small, convincing smile.  


“I’m sorry, darling. I’m afraid I overreacted. Your mother is right to be angry, I handled that rather poorly, after all.”  


She nodded, moving to lean against a nearby tree, eyes never leaving him. “I don’t understand, though. Everything went fine, didn’t it? No problems? So why…” She dropped her voice slightly. “Is it...is it because they’re tieflings? But you don’t have a problem with Auntie Zee and her kids...I don’t understand, Dad…”  
  


Percy looked at his daughter, his eldest child, brave and loyal and so, _ so _kind. It had been years since he and Vex had discussed telling the children about his history, and as time had passed, the darkness fading away in the light of his family and their love, it had seemed almost...unnecessary.  
  


Taking a breath, he moved to stand next to Maddie, closing his eyes. It was time.  


“You know why tieflings are born in some families, don’t you?”  


She nodded, frowning. “Because somebody had dealings with demons at some point in the past. Sometimes it takes generations to show up, they say. Did somebody in the past do something like that?”  


He nodded. “I have a story I need to tell you, Madeline.”

\---

Once upon a time, in a city state called Whitestone, there was a young lordling. He was the third son in his family, a bookish individual more inclined to stay in the library than to go out and socialize. He wasn’t charismatic or politically motivated like his elder siblings, nor was he artistically or musically gifted like his younger siblings. He didn’t have the benefit of being the precocious baby, like his youngest sister. But, he was smart. Perhaps a bit too smart for his own good at times. And he was clever and he loved to tinker. He spent whatever free time he had in his workshop, drafting out different inventions, working on new projects, tinkering and creating whatever he could. He had begun to draft out the beginnings of a new kind of weapon, something that could do a great deal of damage very, very fast. It was all theoretical at the time, and he had no idea if it would work or what he would actually do if he went through with creating it...but he wanted to push the limits of what was possible and do so anyway, regardless of the consequences.  
  


One day, a noble family from Wildemount came to call. They seemed pleasant enough, talking about trade routes and bridges, and they had brought a scientist with them who was very interested in the designs of the tinkering lord. He showed them to her, showed off his work with no thought to what could happen. And that night, after drugging the wine at dinner, that family...the Briarwoods...slaughtered nearly everyone. The middle child, the tinkerer, was captured, tortured and locked away, until his youngest sister, who had somehow survived the bloodshed, found and freed him. But as they escaped...she fell, shot by their pursuers, and he selfishly left her behind to die or be captured.   


There is very little about the next few years that the tinkerer remembers. He worked on boats, doing what he had to do to survive, driven forward by one repeating thought: vengeance. And one night, he dreamed of smoke, a black cloud that offered him power and promised to help him kill those who had taken everything from him. Without thinking, he accepted.  


The next day, he built his first gun. It would not be his last.  


The smoke was a demon of vengeance, a creature called Orthax. It would be easy to blame all of the actions of the tinkerer on the demon, but in truth, it was his own anger, his own desire for revenge, his own pain that drove him. Orthax simply gave him the extra push he needed to follow his goals. That darkness had always been there.  
  


The tinkerer made friends. Allies. He used his creation for what he believed was good, slaying monsters and killing traitorous mind-flayers. And when the time finally, _ finally _ came for him to take his revenge, he let that darkness in him nearly consume him. Orthax thrived. The tinkerer did terrible things...and his revenge was hollow. It left him empty. It nearly cost him his friends, his family of choice, his long lost sister.  
  


His connection to the demon was severed, but of course the damage was done. His bloodline was now ‘tainted’, because of him. A consequence he hadn’t thought about, because he never expected to live long enough to have a family. To have children who would bear the punishment for his actions.  


The scientist, the woman who had shown interest in his inventions the night his family was killed, had survived, escaped. She had taken his creation, refined it, and sold it to others. He eventually tracked her down and killed her in a battle that cost him his own life, and it was only the devotion of his friends--the pull of the light from a heart that loved him--that brought him back. And even then, Orthax had found him when he died, and tried to take what was his. His soul was still scarred, still forfeit. And as for the guns...he did what he could to try and undo his mistakes. He stopped making guns, once he was no longer needed to help save the world on a somewhat regular basis. He tried to buy back the blueprints and the weapons the scientist had already sold, but it was too late. There was no putting the genie back in the lamp, and now the world pays the price in blood for his mistakes.  


He would bargain with his soul again at another point in his life, the deal not nearly as violent as his first encounter with demons and not nearly as damaging to his already ruined soul. It was another mistake in a life filled with many.  
  


Tieflings are, for no fault of their own, looked upon as evil, devil blooded, worthy only of distrust and fear. They are none of these things, of course, because they’re just people, and people can be good or bad or anywhere in between. But their lives are never easy...and all I have ever wanted to do was protect you all from the evils of the world, including my own past. To try and tell you in some way what I’ve done, so that when the world tries to use that against you, you would be ready. To give you what you needed to push me away if necessary, for your own good.  


I saw those beautiful children your mother was holding, and instead of seeing all the wonderful possibilities of their lives, I could only see every mistake, every sin I have ever committed given form, and I know I cannot protect them from that. And if I cannot keep two little babies safe from me, what chance do you or your siblings, or even your mother, stand?

\---

“Dad…Dad, I…”  


Maddie paused, stopping herself in mid sentence. She just looked at her dad as if she was seeing him for the first time, opening her mouth to say something, but remaining silent. In a way, it was a relief, that one of his children finally knew what he had done. He just wished...well, there were many things he wished for.   


“And so. Now you know.” He gave her a brief nod, pushing off the tree he had been resting against.  
  


Maddie remained silent for a moment longer. “....the terrible tinkerer...that story you told us all those years ago…”  


“--was my somewhat misguided attempt to tell you the truth. You were too young, though, and I suppose it was too much to try and simplify into a story for children. I had hoped you would all pick up something, however small, that would lead to you pushing away for your own good.”  


Maddie nodded. And then, she did something he didn’t dare hope for: 

She pushed off the tree, took two strides forward, and pulled him into a tight hug.  
  


“Dad…,” she said, muffled against his shoulder, “I love you...but you’re sort of an idiot, you know that?”  
  


Percy blinked in surprise, arms stiff at his side. He had just told her all these terrible things, and here she was hugging him as if nothing was wrong? It didn’t make sense. The sensible thing to do would have been to go back to the castle, tell her mother she couldn’t find him, and let him leave their lives. Let them all rally around their youngest siblings and keep them shielded, using this new knowledge to direct any hate and fear right back at him, where it belonged.  


“If...if anything happened to you, or Mum, or Perce and Lanie and Freddie, or anyone in the family...I don’t know what I’d do,” Maddie said softly. “I’d be so angry...so upset...I don’t think I’d think about anything except fixing things or hurting whoever hurt you. So...so I guess what I’m trying to say is...I get it. What you did. I don’t think that makes you a monster...it makes you human, I guess.”  
  


She sniffled, hugging him tighter, and without thinking he wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair softly. “I love you, Dad...we all love you. And I can’t speak for Perce or the others, but I don’t think you making deals with demons because you were angry or grieving is anything to be ashamed about. And it’s not like it’s something you’re still doing, so.”  


He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “No, that is a habit I’ve long since fallen out of.”  


Maddie laughed wetly in his arms and he held his daughter tighter, wondering what a fool like him had ever deserved to have a family as wonderful as his.   
  


“Are you gonna tell the others all of this stuff?”  


He considered it for a moment. “Do you think I should?”  
  


Maddie pulled back a bit, shrugging. “I mean...does it matter? It seems like the only one worrying about this stuff still is you.”  


Percy nodded. “Perhaps...perhaps not today, then. Another time. I still think you all deserve to know, just in case.”  
  


She seemed satisfied by this answer, though there was still something uncertain in her eyes. “You’re not mad at the little twins for being what they are, are you?”  


He thought of the two little babies he’d seen only briefly. Cassie’s tufts of white-blonde hair, how she looked like the light of Pelor given form. Gregory’s hooves, kicking from the moment he arrived in the world, how his little tail hadn’t been still for even an instant. He thought of how, for that brief glance, he had seen Vex’s nose on his son, his own chin and smile on his daughter. He thought of all of the things they could be, all the wonderful things they could do. Of the family that loved them, the siblings that would make sure they never felt lesser for any reason.  


He thought of Lilith and of Zahra and her children, about all that they faced and how she never let it affect her, and how fiercely she and Kash defended their brood. He thought of Vox Machina, and how his family wouldn’t treat the little twins any differently than they had the big ones.  


For all that he worried about how the world would treat his children as enemies...for how worked up and guilty and scared he had gotten...he’d forgotten how many friends were already in their corner.  


Maybe Maddie was right. Perhaps it was time for him to leave the past where it was. Let go of his mistakes and try, one more time, to move on.  


“No,” he said to Maddie. “Of course I’m not mad at them...I could never be mad at any of you for being who you are.”  


“You need to tell Mum that, though. She’s still gonna be _ really _mad.”  


“Well, she has every right to be,” He said with a nod, glancing back towards the woods. “Would you do me the honor of leading a poor old fool back home?”  


Maddie laughed and shook her head, looping arms with her father as she led back onto the trail, home to Whitestone.

\---

Vex had, rightly, been furious with him for running off as he did. Once she found out why he’d fled at the sight of their newborns, she’d been even angrier, calling him an idiot and a fool and telling him if he thought for even a second that she would let _ anyone _ make her children feel lesser for being tieflings, then he didn’t know her as well as she’d thought.  


He spent a few days sleeping alone, and a few more days working in his workshop, until he felt his apology gift was ready to be presented.  


Cassie and Grogger (Grog had always wanted them to name a child after him, and Gregory was close enough...the nickname the goliath gave him just sort of stuck) seemed happy enough with their new plush bears, and Vex, when presented with an unfolding locket with space for portraits of all their children, had cried, slapped him in the arm, and kissed him. It was a start, at least.  


Percy eventually told Perce the story he’d told his sister in the woods, unsure how his oldest son would react. He and Maddie were very different people, after all. Perce had been very quiet, asked some questions, hugged him (and would deny any crying whatsoever when asked later about it), and asked to be taken to the crypts, to visit the rest of the family.  


He would tell Lanie and Freddie in time, when they were a little older. And perhaps by the time Cassie and Grogger were old enough, he wouldn’t need to tell them that story at all. There were other stories he wanted to tell them, too.  


Stories of heroes and gods, of dragons and krakens, mind flayers and kings and beasts...the stories of his family, of Vex’s family, of Vox Machina. Of their family and friends and of all the things in the world that made life so incredible.  


And, eventually, there was one more face in the nursery to tell stories to.  


Like the little twins, Olivia de Rolo had been a surprise, arriving when Cassie and Grogger were three. Percy had always found it interesting, looking at his children and seeing which parent they most looked like. Freddie and Lanie took after Vex, with a few minor differences. Both sets of twins seemed to be decent mixes of him and her, their own unique people that he sometimes saw flashes of himself in. But Livvy…  


Livvy looked like Cassandra had, when she was born. She looked like a de Rolo.

She looked like him.

And when he looked at her, he didn’t see a monster, or a reflection of his past sins. He didn’t see anything bad at all, when he looked at her or any of his children. There was no shame, no guilt, no fear. Not anymore.  


There was only love.

\---

“Hello, Livvy!!”  


The baby in Percy’s arms cooed up at him, waving a small fist at his face as she babbled happily. It was just him and Livvy today. Perce was visiting with Tary, Lanie and Freddie were in Zephra with Keyleth, Maddie was in the woods with Vex, and the little twins had just gone down for their naps. It was a rare moment of peace and quiet in the de Rolo household.  


Which meant that he got to spend time with his youngest child uninterrupted and worry free.  


Livvy babbled nonsense in his arms and he bounced her on his knee, grinning at the way she laughed, the way her nose crinkled and her face scrunched up in joy. He would never, ever get tired of this. No matter how many children he and Vex had, no matter how old they got, this would never cease to amaze him.  


“Yes, I quite agree,” he said with a serious nod, settling her down in his arms. “I do believe it is storytime. Now, what tale shall we hear today…”  


“Abb’a! Ba ahbha!” Livvy gurgled, reaching up and gently _ thwapping _his cheek. Percy laughed, leaning in to tickle her.

  
“An excellent choice, my dear! So, let us begin. This is the tale of a group of adventurers. There was a giant, as big as a mountain, and a cleric as bright as the sun! A gnome who wove amazing tales and sung songs, a huntress and her trusty bear, a rogue who always seemed to get into trouble, a bumbling red dragonborn, and a druid who could talk to plants!”  


“Gahbah?”  
  


“Right, I almost forgot the tinkerer. There was also a tinkerer, who did some bad things...but he had good people to pull him back from the dark. This is the tale of the Super High Intensity Team...and they don’t know it yet, but someday, they’re going to become heroes…”  


And so, life went on. The darkness and fears never fully went away, still creeping in the back of Percy’s mind like a second shadow...but there was so much joy, so much light in his life now, that he never went into the dark again. He had, after everything, found a happy ending.

And isn’t that how all good stories should end?

**Author's Note:**

> Much love and eternal gratitude to steelneena, my beta and very good friend, for supporting and encouraging me through writing this.
> 
> This was started before the Dalen's Closet oneshot came out, before we had our first canon perc'ahlia baby, so I guess it's technically an au, but.
> 
> For reference, here are the de Rolo children featured in this story (and the classes I mentally gave them because I'm a giant nerd):  
-Madeline Johanna 'Maddie' de Rolo (ranger/bloodhunter)  
-Percival Julius 'Perce' de Rolo IV (artificer)  
-Vesper Elaina 'Lanie' de Rolo (sorcerer/cleric)  
-Vax'ildan Frederick 'Freddie' de Rolo (ranger/druid)  
-Cassandra Velora 'Cassie' de Rolo (paladin)  
-Gregory Shaun 'Grogger' de Rolo (cleric)  
-Olivia Zahra 'Livvy/Ozzie' de Rolo (rogue/fighter)
> 
> Title comes from Assassin's Creed Revelations, and is a quote by Clay Kaczmarek, aka Subject 16. I haven't forgotten my love of AC, and maybe someday I'll be able to revisit my long abandoned work there. But that's for another day.


End file.
